


That Time of Year

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exhaustion, Extra Treat, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marathon Sex, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sex Pollen, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-07-30 19:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20102470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Rocket heads out to New Asgard to visit Thor during the spring.





	That Time of Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timbre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timbre/gifts).

> Happy RPE, timbre!

Rocket’s first thought when he sees Thor is that the guy looks tired. Happy too, though. He smiles when he sees Rocket, which Rocket takes as a good sign. There wasn’t any smiling back when the crew broke off after Thanos. Thor sulked to New Asgard, and Rocket went off with Nebula to...he still doesn’t know. Help people, apparently. Not that Rocket’s done much helping. But it’s felt good to do stuff, not just sit and sulk.

It must be the same for Thor. They’ve made a hell of a lot of progress on New Asgard. Shelters built. Sea trade kicked up. Some of the local humies have taken a liking to their new space pals. Offered to share tips of the trade and what not. New Asgard isn’t gold palaces or treasure vaults, but it’s a living. After what Thanos did, a living is...well, it’s better than nothing.

“My friend!” Thor exclaims when he sees Rocket. He sinks to his knees and pulls Rocket into a double-armed hug. Rocket squirms against his chest. The hug is nice, but - come on, _air_.

They’ve got a decent amount to talk about. Rocket and Nebula’s space adventures. What it’s been like relaying info back to Natasha and getting orders out of the Avengers Facility.

Turns out, Thor hasn’t been in touch with Nat or the other Avengers at all since Thanos. Seems weird to Rocket, they were all Thor’s friends before they became his. But Thor waves off his confusion, claims there’s been much to do here. They’ve been building, stocking food, and capturing as many old traditions as possible. Thor has involved himself in everything. Settling land disputes, working on leaky roofs, planting their first harvest.

Thor wears the hard work on his body. He’s lost weight, his muscular arms not their usual metal hard. His hair has grown out a touch, as has his beard.

But Rocket sticks hardest on how tired Thor looks. Even with all the work out in the sun, there’s a weird paleness to Thor's skin. His eyes, real and fake, have bags under them, and Rocket doesn’t miss the tremor in his fingers.

“It’s the time of year,” Thor tells his wary gaze.

Rocket raises a brow. “What, isn’t it spring here?”

“Yes.” Thor gives a rueful smile. “I fear I may not be able to keep as close of company with you as I’d hoped. But don’t worry! I’ve alerted the Valkyrie to your arrival. You and Val will get along beautifully. There will be a feast in your honor tomorrow too. I’ve given them a list of all your favorite things.”

“But you won’t be there?”

Thor hesitates, a lip between his teeth. “I’ll do my best,” he says. “But I fear it may already be too far along. The time of year, I mean. But I’m so happy you’re here.” His smile looks more like him, sincere, almost relieved. Rocket’s stomach does that stupid flip-flop it’s known to do whenever Thor gets cute. “I’ve missed you,” he says, “very much.”

“Gross,” Rocket grumbles. “I already let you hug me, Thunder. Don’t push it.” Thor puts up a surrendering hand. Rocket gives his shin a friendly nudge. “So, where’m I staying?”

“This worked out well.” Thor waves for Rocket to follow him up the dirt and stone path. They pass through a network of simple houses. A few of Thor’s people turn to look at Rocket strangely. Rocket glares back. Asgardians like pretty stuff, but did they all get out so little that they never saw anything like Rocket? It’s not like Thor recoiled in horror when they first met.

Then again, when they first met, Thor just saw his brother, his best friend, and half his people murdered. After that, the creepiest shit in the universe wouldn’t have fazed Thor.

Thor continues on, unaware or unbothered by the odd looks from his people. “The bed and breakfast opened two weeks ago,” he tells Rocket. “You’ll have your own room and a shared wash station upstairs. And every morning breakfast is downstairs. Wytha runs the establishment, she and her sister Marta. It’s a lovely place, you’re sure to-”

“So, I'm not staying with you is what you’re saying,” Rocket says.

Thor stops mid-step and gazes back at Rocket. His smile looks nervous, or...embarrassed or something? “I’d like nothing more than to have you with me, Rabbit,” Thor says. Rocket scowls - there goes his stomach flip-flopping again. “But at this time of year, I can’t-”

“You keep saying that,” Rocket says. “What’s the deal with spring on this planet?” He squints at Thor’s pale face. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“What?” Thor sounds surprised. “No, no, I’m quite well, my friend. It’s only. It’s this time of year, you see. Everything on Midgard begins to bud and bloom, and it’s quite different from Asgard.”

Rocket frowns, not following. “So, you uh… You don’t like things budding and blooming?”

“Oh, I do,” Thor insists, smiling. “Midgard is quite beautiful. The cyclical nature of their seasons is a marvel to behold. Have you ever been here during the springtime? You will love it, truly. It’s quite remarkable.”

“So…” Rocket rubs his head in frustration. “I can’t squat on your couch because-”

“Because of the time of year,” Thor tells him. “The buds have started to sprout, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible.” His expression turns hopeful. “Can I show you to where you’ll be staying?”

Rocket frowns up at him. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles.

***

Rocket can’t complain about the B&B. He gets a big bedroom all to himself with its own hand-quilted covers. It’s kind of stupid, this gigantic bed done up for Rocket.

With no one else staying in the B&B at the moment, Rocket has the washroom to himself. Rocket’s gotten used to rushing in and out of refreshers, conserving water and what not. Here, Rocket lets himself shower until steam fills his lungs. Warm water soaks into his fur, and he does his damndest not to think about Thor.

They’re stupid thoughts. Stupid thoughts that have no basis if Thor won’t even let Rocket crash on his majesty’s couch for a few days. Whatever.

Thor is right about the breakfast. The sisters seem pretty excited to have a guest, even if that guest is some little furry weirdo. He gets fed like a king. The spread has breads and jams and fruits and quiche and porridge and pastries and fresh juices.

The sprawl makes Rocket mad at first. It’s so much from people who don’t have a lot, and it feels like a waste. All this to keep Thor’s old space buddy happy.

Luckily, Rocket doesn’t have to stew in the feeling long. He’s just filled his plate when the B&B door swings open and Rocket finds himself joined by all kinds of people. Couple guards, by the armor. And others in simple dress with rough labor-hands. A few kids jog around the tables, and the room fills with laughter and loud conversation. Fresh brewed coffee and teas fill hearty mugs. A small cup is set aside for Rocket without so much as a smile at the size.

Before Rocket knows it, he’s talking intergalactic trade markets and post-Thanos affairs. The Asgardians bring up their meager supply of spacecraft. The cycles of on and off-world. The benefits and detriments to trading with the local Terrans. Whatever weird outsider looks he got yesterday seem forgotten. No one bats an eye at Rocket. It’s kind of nice. And odd. But it sets Rocket more at ease.

Rocket is actually smiling when he waddles outside after. He's stuffed and satisfied. The air smells sweet with the start of spring. People passing the B&B nod and smile at him.

Rocket feels so good, it takes him a bit to rustle up his earlier annoyance with Thor. “You weren’t kidding about the breakfast,” Rocket says when he spots the guy coming up the path. “That sure was something.”

“Yes, it’s...yes, it’s quite nice.”

Up close, Thor doesn’t look right. He’s breathing funny, and twin stripes of heat color his cheeks. He’s taken out the fake eye Rocket got him in favor of his old gold eye guard. His good eye looks glassy, and a few drops of perspiration dot his brow.

“You _are_ sick,” Rocket accuses, glaring up at Thor. “You idiot, why didn’t you say something?”

Thor’s laugh is weak. “I’m not-”

“You are. What, did you think I’d care? Like I wouldn’t come or something?”

“It’s the time of year,” Thor tells Rocket. The words come out soft, with a shaking breath behind them. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t be here now, but I wanted to make sure you and Val found each other.” He frowns, like it’s a struggle to keep up with his own thoughts.

Rocket moves towards him, a hand extended. “You-” He stops in his tracks when Thor stumbles back. Something quiet and pleading slips out of his mouth.

He smells amazing.

Rocket catches it now that they're closer to each other. Some deep, thick scent. Not of morning sweat or a recent shower. It’s not even that scent that Thor usually has, like the calm after a storm. It’s warm and inviting like the first day of spring after a crazy winter.

Rocket’s mouth slips open. “Are you-”

“Oh look! Here she is!” Thor’s smile comes out wild and frantic. “My battle mate. The Valkyrie. Val. This is,” he gestures towards Rocket with an unsteady hand, “this is Rabbit, the dear friend I told you about.”

Val approaches in a hoodie sweatshirt and working slacks. Her dark, thick braid rests over one shoulder. Dried mud cakes her boots. She gives first Thor, then Rocket an unimpressed look.

Rocket gives one right back. “It’s Rocket, actually,” he says.

“Noted,” Val tells him, before turning her skepticism back on Thor. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says.

“Yes. I was going, actually. But I wanted. I thought, if I saw you off-”

“He’s fine, Thor,” Val says. She glances at Rocket. “Tell him you’re fine. You’re his ‘dear friend’ and all.” She doesn’t make finger quotes around the phrase ‘dear friend,’ but the tone of her voice makes her opinion clear.

Rocket frowns up at Thor. He’s caving on himself, arms looped around his stomach. He tugs restlessly on the sides of his tunic. Rocket takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Thor smells like sex. Sweaty, wet, desperate sex.

“I’m cool,” Rocket says under his breath.

Thor’s one-eyed stare fixes on Rocket. His lips are wet from licking. “Oh.” Rocket feels the husked sound in his belly. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad you’re, that you’re both, that’s...cool. That’s very-”

“Your majesty.” When Val says the title, it comes with a bite.

“Oh yes.” Swallowing hard, Thor smiles at them. “Forgive me. I’ll, I hope it isn’t long. It isn’t.” Thor clears his throat. He looks light-headed. “It won’t be long before I join you again. Thank you, Val, you-”

“Will you go already?” As impatient as Val looks, her exasperation comes with a smile.

“Right. Yes. Going!” Thor's eye, dark and glazed, swims back to Rocket. “You’re in good hands, my friend.”

“Am I?” Rocket asks. “In good hands?”

Thor’s face crumbles with a strained, rushed laugh. Without another word, Thor wanders off, a flush of heat creeping down his throat. He takes his scent with him, leaving only the floral breeze of early spring. It takes the strength of five Rockets for Rocket not to stumble after him.

“So,” Val says once Thor is out of sight, “You like whiskey?”

Rocket cocks his head back to look at her. “Among other stuff,” he says.

Val nods. “So I’ve heard. Five card draw?”

“Now you’re talking,” Rocket says.

***

It’s a good plan to distract him, Rocket has to give them that. It’s a good plan, but it has two black hole-strength pitfalls.

One, the plan to distract Rocket includes pumping him full of his own body volume in whiskey. It keeps him laughing and cracking crude jokes with Val. She seems to be a connoisseur of crude jokes herself. They roll through round after round of five card draw, drawing outside spectators. They switch to other games when they get enough people on board.

From what Rocket remembers, it’s a hell of a lot of fun. He can see why Thor thought to pair him up with Val. She’s tart and gives no fucks, and Rocket likes people like that. Only bad thing is he’s so pumped full of liquor that he can’t fully enjoy the feast that the town rolls out in Rocket’s honor. It's a ton of food, Rocket knows this much. And even more booze.

The main problem is that booze tends to make Rocket obsess. What Rocket chooses to fixate on is Thor’s empty seat at the evening feast. Which makes him remember how Thor looked this morning. The way he sounded. The way he smelled.

Two, the plan to distract Rocket doesn’t take into account how off the walls crazy Rocket is for Thor.

Rocket isn’t enough of a dick to bark up the wrong tree. Up until today, Thor was untouchable, and Rocket was cool with that. The universe is in shambles, and other than Nebula Thor is the only family Rocket has left. He would never toss that away for ill-advised pawing that would sour Thor on him faster than spoiled milk.

But after this morning, Rocket isn’t sure that Thor is untouchable. He has a seed of a thought in his brain. And seeds grow fast when they’re watered by a bucket full of whiskey.

Val dumps Rocket’s drunk ass off at the B&B and tells him to get some sleep. Thirty minutes later, Rocket is creeping back down the steps and sneaking outside.

The good news is that Thor’s pad isn’t right in the center of town. His home is a little shack down by the docks that no one has any business coming to at night. Rocket’s only company is a few seagulls and stragglers who sit by the water to enjoy the night breeze. It’s easy enough to evade the bystanders, even as Rocket shakes off the fuzz of his booze head.

The problem of how to get into Thor’s house turns out to not be a problem at all. All Rocket has to do is reach high enough to grab the doorknob. It isn’t locked, and the door cracks open with a dull squeak.

Rocket sneaks inside and latches the door behind himself. Thor’s entranceway is a narrow hall. It splits with doorways that lead first to the kitchen, and next to the living room. A TV sits on a glass table. The couch bears a few throw pillows and folded blankets. The coffee table, an empty bottle of water and just-as-empty pizza box.

Rocket hears something when he reaches the living room. Rough, shallow breaths and a metal groan that sounds like bedsprings. His heart thumps in his chest. He shouldn’t be here. This is fucked up, creeping in without permission.

But the excuses are token. Even as Rocket thinks them, he’s tip-toeing towards the bedroom. He’s here, he has to see.

The door to Thor’s bedroom is wide open. The lights are off inside, dark only cut by slivers of moonlight slipping in through the blinds. Rocket creeps in, back flattened to the wall. The sound of Thor’s breaths is louder from here; deep pants that make Rocket shudder.

When Rocket sees Thor, his mouth drops open.

Thor lies naked on his back, thighs split wide and bent bow-style on the rumpled sheets. His cock is huge and blushed, slick with oil above his belly. Thor’s stomach, too, is wet, dripping with cum already spent. How is he still so hard?

Thor has a hand on himself, and he rubs without rhythm. He looks tired, from the squeeze of his single eye. His breaths rasp through the cloth tied around his head as a gag. The strip binds between his lips, and even from the floor Rocket sees how hard Thor is biting it. The smell of the room is insane, Thor’s arousal sits heavy like a humid summer. A ceiling fan whirs overhead but isn’t much help. The scent of sex soaks the air.

Rocket bites his cheek to stay quiet. His nostrils flutter, sopping up Thor’s scent like a thick chunk of bread. Rocket's attentive cock pushes against his overalls.

Thor lifts his head without warning.

On slippery legs, Thor tries to sit up. His nervous gaze darts towards the bedroom door. Rocket sees that Thor can’t shut his legs all the way, thanks to the huge dildo rammed inside him. The base is black and the size of a coaster. Sweat gleams across Thor’s forehead and chest.

Rocket’s stuttering steps take him out from behind the wall. He raises innocent hands. With the clarity of a bucket of cold water, Rocket realizes he has no idea what he should say. “Uh,” he shrugs, “it’s ok. It’s me.”

Thor’s breath rasps behind the gag. His single eye takes in Rocket, a slow scan from head to toe. Rocket feel like a tumbler of whiskey downed in a single gulp.

All at once, Thor’s gaze turns panicked. Thor fumbles to peel a sheet up over his glossed cock. As if it makes any difference. Thor’s erection tents the fabric obscenely. He grimaces behind the gag and scoots back on his bed. Every movement makes a new muffled sound bubble off his tongue. Rocket can only imagine how it feels trying to move with that huge thing crammed up his ass. And to think, Rocket complained about size when he smuggled that eyeball off Contraxia...

It’s Thor’s real, remaining eye that gets Rocket to move. Thor looks startled, and he looks afraid. Thor, God of Thunder, wielder of Stormbreaker, King of Asgard, yadda yadda. Thor looks afraid of _him._ Like he expects Rocket to judge him or something. Rocket. The little monster everyone else judges for being a freak. It’s a bananas idea, but then, none of this is normal territory. Rocket only knows he needs Thor to stop looking at him like something bad is about to happen. They’ve dealt with enough of that.

“So, spring huh?” Swallowing for courage, Rocket unhooks the straps of his overalls. “Yeah, that can be annoying.” He peels the top down, letting Thor see his upper half. The bolts twisted into his collarbone. The metal stapled down his belly.

Behind his gag, Thor whimpers like he’s got someone’s mouth on his cock.

Holding Thor’s gaze, Rocket eases the fabric down his waist. “You know what would be better? If you had someone to help you out. You know, a buddy. A pal. Someone who knows you. Someone you trust.” Chewing his cheek, Rocket shoves his overalls all the way down. His little cock pops free, pink and stiff as one of the little flower buds along the shoreline. One of the tiny things driving Thor’s god-hormones through the roof, by the looks of things.

Thor’s glassy stare sinks to Rocket’s proud little dick. With shaking fingers, he withdraws the sticky sheet thrown over his waist. Rocket’s tongue turns to sandpaper. He manages to croak, “Why don’t you lie down, man? Get comfy. I’ll be right there.”

A sound puffs out behind Thor’s gag, breathy and hopeful. A second later, Thor eases himself to his back. It takes every bit of Rocket’s strength to keep his knees from buckling.

Naked as the day he was put together, Rocket climbs up on Thor’s bed. The sheets along the edge are cool, but the closer Rocket moves the warmer they get. From the mattress, Rocket sees more than he could from the floor. Like, Thor’s hairline is wet with sweat, longer strands sticking to his forehead. His stomach is a smear of finger-scratched cum. Rocket stares at drying tear marks at a corner of Thor’s eye.

Thor’s breaths shudder behind his gag. He tilts his head to gaze up at Rocket. Something about standing over him makes Rocket’s chest hurt.

Rocket puts on a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, this is hot and all, but I kinda - it’d be better if you-” Rocket peels the cloth out of Thor’s mouth. Pink chaps the corners of Thor's lips.

Thor licks them slowly. “I don’t want anyone to hear,” he explains. His voice strains like he’s coming back from battle. Rocket swallows hard. “I’m not the only one like this, but I’m- it’s different when you’re me.”

“So, you’ll throw on a pretty gag, but you leave your front door unlocked and the bedroom wide open, huh?” His tail swats Thor’s arm. Even this makes Thor shiver. “Like you’re free for the taking, is that it?”

Rocket’s mad. He doesn’t realize he’s mad until the words come out. It’s stupid. Like Rocket has any say in who Thor fucks. Or what he does with his...seasonal allergies, or whatever the hell this is.

Rocket’s never felt quite like this before. He’s been protective though, sure. Heard a little voice snarl in his head whenever anyone messed with his family. That deafening chant of _mine_ if anyone screwed with Groot, Quill, Gamora, Drax, or even the Antennae Chick.

Rocket hears it now too. That shrill, panicked voice screaming _MINE_ over and over.

“Am I not?” Thor asks, voice cracking. “Free for that?”

Rocket answers with nails dragged down Thor’s lips. They pop open, a groan rumbling from Thor’s throat. His whole body moves in response to the touch. Down the bed, his hips rise. He squeezes a hand around himself.

“What number are we on?” Rocket asks. “How many times already?”

Rocket lifts himself up to straddle Thor’s throat. Thick as Thor is, it’s difficult to get his legs all the way around. Thor vibrates beneath Rocket when he moans. His eye rolls back behind closing lids. When he swallows, his throat bobs right down to good places. Rocket juts his hips down, lets Thor feel his cock flush against his neck.

“Five.” It's hard to hear Thor's reply, even this close.

Rocket grins and taps thoughtful fingers on Thor’s lips. Thor’s tongue darts out. He’s hot and wet, and he must like what he tastes from the groan that spills out of him.

“How many you gotta have?” Rocket asks. “Before you get this out of your system?”

“I don’t know,” Thor croaks. “It’s different every time. It’s not- it’s not about number, it’s the season.” His fingers stutter over Rocket’s back, making Rocket warm all over. He bucks down into Thor’s neck, heavy enough to make Thor’s breath catch. Another swallow, and the thick ball of his throat shifts between Rocket’s thighs. Rocket wriggles down on Thor, forcing as much pressure as he can. Thor’s fingers are above his tail, digging deep at the base of Rocket’s spine. Rocket squirms harder. On instinct, his body shoots up. Tail swung to the side. Backside bared to Thor’s fingers.

Thor’s laugh is weak. “I should have told you to come another time.”

Rocket snorts. “Or you shoulda told me earlier. Your girl Val knew,” he points out.

“Yes, she said-” Rocket feels Thor's body move. “She said ‘dear friend my ass,’ if I remember right.”

“Mmhm- mmmm.” Rocket closes his eyes. Thor’s thumb gives Rocket’s balls a stroke, two buds hanging down no bigger than blueberries. Rocket sinks back with a grunt. Thor moans, lip trapped between his teeth. His body shifts again.

“Quit that.” Rocket taps Thor’s bit lip.

It pops free, redder and indented. Thor’s eye glazes like pastry icing. Rocket ducks his head to lick at the mark. Thor's mouth tastes a little like copper.

Thor sucks in a breath, harsh and sudden. He releases it in a huge gust. “Too loud,” he mumbles into Rocket’s fur.

Rocket snorts. “Tough,” he says. He thrusts forward, cock buried up against Thor’s throat. Thor grits his teeth. The sound he wants to make rattles between Rocket’s thighs.

Rocket hears other sounds too - the squelch of fingers dipped in something wet. A glance over Rocket’s shoulder finds Thor slicking his skin in lube. Rocket’s desire pulses deep in his gut.

“Any other moron could’ve danced through that door,” Rocket grumbles. “You would’ve been balls deep in them by now, huh? Bet you would’ve loved that. Freaking horse hung like you are, no way I’m getting that damn thing in me.”

It’s been a long time since a touch other than Rocket’s slipped under his tail. Thor’s thumb is sopping with oil. He is gentle, slicking Rocket’s crown until he can get the tip of his thumb inside. Rocket’s hips buck forward, cock grinding against Thor’s neck.

“No one’s ever come,” Thor tells him, quiet. “Only you.”

Rocket curls one finger on Thor’s bottom lip. It peels back, pink and wet. Thor’s breath ghosts across his hand. “You want that?” Rocket asks. “You want ‘em to fuck you, your majesty?”

Thor looks between Rocket’s eyes and the finger against his lips. “No,” he says, “no, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Rocket says. One finger becomes three, sliding past Thor’s bottom lip. Thor sucks them down without hesitation, his mouth thick and eager. He licks between them, dragging on their tips like a nursing overgrown kid.

Thor’s thumb circles the crown of Rocket’s hole, easing it open, allowing the full nail. Rocket growls over him, nails drumming the inside of Thor’s lip. “No one’s coming,” Rocket tells him. “It’s me from now on, got it? Just me.”

Rocket can’t even say it’s the whiskey talking. Too much time has passed since then. He feels clear-headed, staring into Thor’s dazed, aroused eye. Rocket knows exactly what he’s saying. Exactly what he’s promising.

Thor nods, breath hot against Rocket’s mouth-soaked fingers. “Alright,” he says.

***

Rocket rocks his body back on the twin fingers buried deep inside him. His cock twitches above Thor’s throat. Thor's neck is tense, tendons drawn tight. The wet sounds around Thor’s cock grow more pronounced. Rocket pushes himself on Thor’s fingers, and gasps at Thor’s knuckles rubbing the crown of his hole.

Thor pants a breath above him. He’s biting a cheek, the sound he wants to make coming out muted and strained.

“Oh yeah,” Rocket moans against him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” His release soaks the flat of Thor’s throat and dribbles down into the hollow of his collarbone.

Rocket’s whole body is on fire. He feels filled to the brim, so lax that he can’t hold anything inside him. Not his orgasm, his tremors, or the heart-thumping feeling that makes him slack against Thor’s face.

Thor moans against his ear as his body quakes forward. He’s shaking like he’s on his last legs. His hips spasm, his breath catches. Rocket rides out Thor’s release. The vibration between his thighs make him shiver with pleasure.

Thor’s gasp tickles Rocket’s ear. Rocket splays against him, throbbing in the aftermath.

It’s only when Thor hisses that Rocket manages to lift his groggy head. He glances over his shoulder. Thor’s belly is wet with fresh seed, stripes of white caking his skin. But his cock is still hard as if none of it ever happened. Blood red and soaked, cradled in Thor’s loose grip.

“Shit,” Rocket breathes.

“It’s...it’s alright…” Thor manages to speak through staggered exhales. “Thank you for...for helping...but you don’t need to-”

“I don’t think you heard me. Which - I get it, you’ve got a lot going on.” Rocket pushes on Thor’s chin, making him dip his head lower. “No one else is coming, only me. And I decide when I’ve had enough, not you. Got it?”

Thor licks his lips. Tired as he looks, something sparks in his eye. “Yes,” he says.

***

Rocket slurps Thor’s nipple greedily. The little pebble is already nice and red, but it’s not enough for Rocket. He sucks on the bud until it’s dark as blood. Until he feels Thor’s heartbeat throb against his mouth. Rocket gives it a little tug with his teeth, and Thor makes the weirdest sound. It’s quiet and questioning, and it scratches like it rips his throat raw.

Rocket keeps right on sucking, and tonguing, and nibbling.

Thor writhes on the bed. His moan shudders under Rocket’s fur, and Rocket feels his body stutter. “Oh,” Thor gasps beneath him. “Oh… _oh_.”

Rocket hears the dismay in the final syllable. He doesn’t even need to look.

“Look at me,” Rocket says, and Thor does. Rocket swears his eye has tears in it. “I’ve got you,” he says. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Thor rasps. He drops his head back wearily.

***

“Hey, you’re ok,” Rocket says, without knowing if Thor’s actually ok.

Thor has come three more times. The sun is coming up beyond the cracked blinds. Rocket is aching with exhaustion. His body hurts, and his eyelids are heavy. More than ever, he’s feeling all the whiskey he downed with Val yesterday. The bedsheets are inviting, and Thor’s body is so warm. All Rocket wants to do is curl up and sleep.

But Rocket is too busy draping a cold washcloth over Thor’s forehead. Thor is burning up, and his heartbeat is fast. The hand he has around his still fully-aroused cock is lax. Thor barely moves his fingers. Every time he does, his legs twitch.

“You’re ok,” Rocket repeats, patting the edges of the cold compress.

“I’m ok,” Thor slurs back, squinting up at Rocket. He smiles with swollen lips. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” he admits. “I thought of so many ways, so many chances for us to-”

“Yeah well, at least this is memorable.”

Fact is, Thor is still gorgeous. Exhausted, fucked out, and lathered in goosebumps. But Rocket wants it to be over too. For Thor. “Here, why don’t I…” He plops next to Thor’s head and combs fingers down his scalp. Thor rumbles a hummed response, quiet and purr-like. His eye closes, and his hips rock with renewed interest. “Yeah,” Rocket says, “thought you’d like that.”

He repeats the motion. Thor groans and turns, a kiss nuzzled to Rocket’s side.

***

Rocket’s body shakes as he hoists the bottle of Gatorade on the bed. He isn’t sure what Gatorade is. Looks like something hydrating though. It’s got to be good because Thor’s fridge is stocked with the stuff.

Rocket feels like the walking dead. It’s taking all his willpower not to faceplant and go to sleep.

With a grunt, he drags the bottle the rest of the way to Thor. “Hey, buddy,” he rasps. “Brought you something.”

Thor lets out a shaking breath. His good eye squeezes shut. “Can’t, it’s, I can’t do this anymore.”

“I know, man, I know.” But Rocket doesn’t know. He’s never seen anything like this. The sun is at midday height. The ceiling fan is worthless. It’s _hot_ in here, and sticky, and Rocket is so tired.

He nudges the bottle into Thor’s hand. Rocket doesn’t even have it in him to wrench the cap off.

Luckily, Thor is still capable. He twists the top open, a few drops sloshing out as he brings it to his lips. He gulps down half the bottle in one go. A grunt of thanks puffs from Thor’s mouth. His soiled hands smear the bottle. They shake as he closes it and sets it at his side.

“You should sleep,” Thor tells him. He sounds like he’s waking up from a twenty year nap himself. “I don’t… I don’t know how much longer this will go on.”

Rocket bends to lick the round of Thor’s shoulder. “Shut up,” he says.

***

Thor doesn’t have any cum left to spend. He whimpers, and his waist pops off the bed. May as well be dry heaving, the motion seems to make him feel as sick as it does relieved. The fresh compress on his forehead starts to roll off. Rocket lifts a groggy hand to catch it.

The rest of Thor’s body is damp from another washcloth. Rocket cleaned the spend from his stomach and the dripping oil from his thighs. He packed ice in small bags and left them under Thor’s knees. By the squish as Thor lowers, most of the cubes are already water.

Rocket’s head feels like lead. He has no idea what time it is, except that there’s almost no sun left slipping through the blinds. Thor’s hand shakes around himself. His fingers are raw and as red as his still unsatisfied dick.

Rocket tucks his face against Thor’s and blows out a breath.

“Sleep, rabbit,” Thor croaks. “Please.”

“ ‘m fine,” Rocket tells him. He presses his snout to Thor’s cheek. Exhausted as Rocket is, Thor's scent still tickles his senses. He still can’t believe it. After all the crap they’ve been through, all he has to do now is turn his head to see Thor. Every tired, shaking inch.

“I’ve got you,” Rocket tells him. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Thor says. Crazy as it is, tired as Thor has to be, it still sounds like Thor believes him.

***

Rocket wishes he were more up to the task. It’s not for lack of trying, but the fact is Thor is huge. There’s a lot of ground to cover, and there’s only so much of Rocket. Rocket can see where this will be problematic without weird-ass C-53 springs. (_Will_ be problematic. Because Rocket is assuming this is the start of something. Funny how that goes.)

It’s even worse with Thor in his current predicament. Thor’s body is as raw as raw gets. The faintest swipe of Rocket’s finger makes Thor’s body jerk. Thor hasn’t taken a steady breath in hours. Every inhale catches in his throat. Every exhale trips off his tongue like he’s two seconds away from sobbing. Thor hasn’t yet, but he does have fresh tear tracks on his cheek. His teeth bare behind shaking, snarled lips.

What can Rocket do? Playing on Thor’s chest means torturing already red, bitten nipples. Small, pink teeth marks litter Thor’s neck. Rocket tries slurping on his cockslit. Pawing at his balls. Thor holds the base of his shaft with a loose curled fist. It’s like he’s afraid to stroke himself but as afraid to let go.

Rocket drags his tongue between Thor’s thighs. There’s no chance of worrying the muscle between his teeth, Thor is too big for his mouth. Rocket catches him a few times, swells his skin with pink nibbles that make Thor hiss.

It’s the dead of night, and 48 hours since Rocket last slept. He’s dizzy as he sprawls between Thor’s legs. Exhausted, he licks the rim of the dildo shoved inside Thor. Thor grunts and shifts against him.

Blowing out a breath, Rocket noses at Thor’s balls. Even his exhales are enough to draw a strained moan out of Thor.

With a hum, Rocket sets his cheek on Thor’s thigh. “Y’know,” he says, “there’s a button on this thing up your ass. You tried pushing it yet?” It’s true, in the center of the toy’s base there is a simple black switch. No longer than the edge of one of Thor’s nails.

“I don’t think it works,” Thor rasps. He sounds like he hasn’t had water in three months.

“Works?” Rocket glances up at him. “What do you mean? What’s it supposed to do?”

Rocket could wait for an answer. Instead, he flicks the button in the other direction. Muted buzzing touches Rocket’s ears. The toy springs to life, shuddering inside. Rocket jerks back in surprise.

He jumps to the foot of the bed when Thor shouts in alarm. His cock smacks wet against his stomach. His limbs go taut, and his neck strains back. His next sound is weaker, a strangled whine as he claws at the sheets. Rocket would rush to turn the thing off, if not for the electricity skittering down Thor's chest. It pours out of his good eye and laces around his neck. Crackles between his fingers and hugs his legs like lightning vines. Thor’s back arches off the mattress. He makes a pleading sound.

“Oh shit,” Rocket yelps, because stuff is burning. A patch on a corner of the sheets, then a stray pillow against the headboard. Rocket clambors up the mattress, patting out little fires that pepper the blankets. The dark room lights up, their shapes exploding on the ceiling and walls.

Thor’s cry muffles in the pillow he tucks his face against. He’s biting it, Rocket realizes. Chewing so hard that he goes red in the face. He’s terrifying, and freaking gorgeous. Rocket should be doing something to help him, but he just stares. Eyes wide, not breathing.

Rocket stares until Thor’s body goes limp and the bursts of lightning extinguish. Thor’s mouth relaxes from the pillow. He pants for breath, and his hand finally falls away from his cock. He’s reaching down further, pawing with twitching fingers. “Hang on,” Rocket says. He scuttles back down the bed, cautious as he turns off the vibrating toy. The room goes quiet, save Thor’s weak breaths

“Take it out?” Thor slurs. His words jumble together, but Rocket catches enough.

It’s easier said than done. Long as Thor has had the dildo shoved up inside him, the lube has started to crust around the edges. Rocket winces as he twists, trying to ignore the sharp sounds from up the bed.

He needs to use both hands. Thor’s body gapes wide and loose without the toy inside him. Rocket stares at him, glossed with oil, body pulsing around nothing. Exhausted as Rocket is, something new and hungry seizes his belly. He has ideas in his head. Things he’ll need to try to make work.

For now, he climbs up the bed to settle next to Thor’s face. He has to admit, it’s pretty amazing how Thor turns towards him immediately. Nose buried in Rocket’s fur, breathing him in as deeply as Rocket did two days ago.

“You good?” Rocket asks.

Thor nods against his belly. He can’t even answer in words.

Tucking his face close, Rocket mumbles, “Fuck spring.”

This time, Thor manages a tired chuckle.

*The End*


End file.
